The Surfer

The game does not immediately appear, especially to the outsider, an overtly taxing one physically. Those who do not follow suspect it to be soft, where players such as David Boon, Inzamam-ul-Haq and VVS Laxman - none ever to be mistaken for a top-class athlete - can prosper. This assessment is neither fair nor entirely accurate and the modern game places greater demands on fitness. But fast bowlers are what have always made cricket a truly physical, athletic pursuit.

The BCCI, which has resisted accountability for long — and invited ridicule when it said the Indian team was not an Indian team but a BCCI team — could now be made to bow to the reigning spirit of the day and age — the pursuit of transparency and accountability. The Central Information Commission (CIC), which once ruled in the past that the BCCI is not covered by the RTI Act, is again going to adjudicate on the issue on October 4. The verdict could be different this time.

A batsman of gloriously uninhibited attacking inclinations, with a hint of the great West Indian Brian Lara in his technique, he was a clean hitter of the ball, but even more than that a sweet timer of it, with a full array of seemingly effortless attacking shots. He was particularly effective against spin bowling, his twinkle-toed nimbleness around the crease allowing him to move forward and back with speed and decisiveness, and helping to make him unusually effective at hitting over the top.

An alternative test would be how many people can recognise a star player. This would give the individual sports a boost, since stars like Roger Federer and Michael Schumacher have their faces adorned on billboards around the world—although I also refuse to believe there is a single person on the subcontinent who would be unable to put a name to a picture of Sachin Tendulkar (27m Google hits, pictured above). And there are probably undiscovered Amazonian tribes that could finger David Beckham (67m).

Is there any need to bring America into the cricketing inner circle? It is of course a financial decision, TV advertising could for example be huge, but there is more than enough money swirling about in cricket at the moment, it is after all a game. Changing a nations psyche just seems to a big a job, the thought of 30,000 American’s turning up to watch some cricket is just too fanciful.

In its current form, it’s no breeding ground for international cricketers. The pitches – browner than brown, flatter than flat – turn disciples of speed into devotees of line, length and energy conservation; they nurture flat-track bullies. The format, which encourages teams to play for draws, has outlived its utility in a result-oriented world. And with the IPL propelling players into the limelight and, in many cases, into national colours, there’s no incentive anymore for young cricketers to go through the grind, to make 48-hour train journeys and play in empty stadiums. The charm of it all has worn off.

The Irani Cup, played between last season’s Ranji trophy Champion Rajasthan and Rest of India [RoI], which gets under way today is a testimony to that [the tournament's a farce]. As the RoI sauntered onto the practice arena, the lack of interest or rather discipline was evident in the kit that the Parthiv Patel-led side wore. Players who had played for India were in their India jerseys, some wore their state association colours while the others wore random t-shirts. Imagine an IPL team without their team colours. Un-professionalism on part of players or careless attitude from the Indian board?

For Meaker the last six months have been a period of rapid ascent all round, from a peripheral figure in a Division Two County Championship side to a first international call-up in a squad of 15 for the five-match series, which starts on 14 October, and a reputation as the coming man in England's ever-engorging entourage of athletic young pace bowlers.

Where he really excelled, however, was as a captain. To lead India was no easy job. Only 15 years after Partition, the scars were still raw. As a Muslim, he felt it: uncles, aunts and cousins had migrated across the border, and he always sighed that India and Pakistan would have made a great team together. As for the Indian team itself, when he inherited it, players kept to their own regional languages, cultures, even food. “Look”, he would tell them, “you are not playing for Delhi, Punjab, Madras, Calcutta or Bombay; you are playing for India. You are Indian.” Before long, the players succumbed to his imperious charm.

A not exactly accurate quote about Sachin attributed to him by some sections of the media ensured that his book launch in Mumbai never happened. Two political parties took credit for forcing the cancellation. The CCI gave some feeble excuse. This is increasingly becoming the tragedy of today’s India. There’s simply too much of free floating outrage — that politics finally exploits.

Even if Shoaib was critical of Sachin’s ability to play fast bowling or win a match, I would have loved to hear why. It’s an interesting point of view and every point of view has a right to be heard, engaged. If we disagree with Shoaib, as I am sure many of us do, we could have argued with him, disproved him. In any case, cricket history doesn’t bear Shoaib out.

The effervescence was short-lived. Shammi and Tiger were prophets before their age. The 1960s proved a false dawn, and society soon surrendered to the cynical and underperforming statism of the 1970s — free India’s most wasted decade. It took another generation, and the cusp of a new millennium, for the legacy of both Shammi and Tiger to be fully appreciated, and for the rest of us to catch up with them.